To Make The Most
by Dimpled
Summary: 12 year old Rue Harmin lives in District 11, a cruel, heartless land owned by the Enforcers, who care for nothing but the whip in their hands. Rue finds nothing in her life to love except her family, who grieve a horrible loss. But when Rue lands into the Hunger Games, a fight to the death on live TV, she decides to make the most for all its worth, even if it means losing her life.
1. Chapter 1

Papa shakes me awake, and I continue the small, shivering gesture as the cold air wraps around me. My younger sisters, Esther and Hannah, have pulled the covers away from me again in their sleep. I look up at Papa's handsome, dark face as he smiles down at me.

"You'll be late to the harvest, Rue," he nods to himself, chuckling.

I sit up and examine the room. Mama sleeps on the cotton mattress across the room. I frown slightly. She even looks tired and beat-down in her sleep. Maybe it is because even when she rests, she knows she'll have to work hard while in the fields, all day. Maybe it is because Papa isn't with her. Or maybe it is because the reaping is tomorrow.

She tells the same story every year, retelling the story of how she felt during her first reaping. It now stabs my heart knowing that I'll be there tomorrow, with my name in 23 times.

I look down at my sisters' closed eyes, their fists curled up into fists. Esther snuggles into Hannah sweetly. I smile to myself warmly.

Beside the bed we lie on, Benny and Leon, my younger brothers, sleep as far apart from each other as possible. Thought they are twins, its incredible they despise each other.

I am the oldest now. I never mention to anyone my older brother Samuel, who was whipped to death in the fields for not working fast enough ten years ago. I was just two years old. My siblings do not know of their older brother; I cannot tell them.

It was Samuel, then me. Hannah came two years before Esther, and the twins were adopted from a dying woman across the street.

Our three-room home can barely fit all of us, but as long as we have each other, we learn to not care.

I nod up at Papa, trying to force a smile. Will this be the last day Papa wakes me up?

I try to climb out of bed as quietly as I can, but a creak from the bed wakes Esther.

"Rue?" she yawns. "Are you leaving?"

I kiss her tiny forehead. "Yes, Essie. But I'll be back tonight."

She nods sleepily and sinks back into dreams.

I pull my curly brown hair into a ponytail, pull on our district uniform, (a dull grey T shirt and jacket over jeans) and slide my feet into boots.

I start down the dirty road, pulling an orange from a nearby tree.

I am a Watcher. It is my job to climb my assigned tree, overlooking the workers in the field. There are only a few of us, but as we are the ones to alert when time is up, we are also the ones to tell any of the Enforcers if someone is not working they may have missed.

We never do.

The Enforcers are the ones who hold a whip as tough as the hearts the hold, their eyes piercing and sly, as a fox. They see to it that if anyone stops working, anyone at all, while they are harvesting in the fields, they are whipped.

The whip you, hard and fast, their pitiless hearts showing. They still want you to work, so they whip you until you can hardly bear it, and then they let you go, shoving you into the ground.

Tears come to my eyes as I remember that day when I found out what had happened to my brother.

He used to play with me, being the only ray of light in my dark, cruel world.

And then one day, he leaned down and kissed my head, telling me good-bye. I looked up at him with loving eyes, the way my younger siblings look at me now, if they see fit.

And then mama and papa came home, weeping. Our neighbor, who is dead now, came over and comforted them, telling them that God always had a plan. He always did.

Papa bought a Bible right away, reading its words until it brought him to tears. So now, every time I see a boy or girl, woman or man, being whipped, I will remember Samuel, however sadly or horribly it occurs in my head, seeing how handsome he was, seeing how kind. He always told me good would come of everything bad.

I come to the iron gates, checking in at the sign-in table.

A man looks over my shoulder as I sign my name.

"Rue Harmin?" he reads. I nod.

"Ben Harmin's kid?" he guesses, leaning on his cane.

I nod again, trying to smile. "My father, yes."

The man has blue eyes, which crinkle at the ends, like they smile on their own.

"I knew him when I was a boy. Are you his only child?"

My throat develops a lump in it. "No, sir," I say. "There are si—I mean five of us."

He pats my back. "I knew a Sam Harmin, too," he whispers. "Your brother?"

I back away and run through the fields.

My heart lifts again at the familiar cries of my name, so sweet and run-down and kind, it makes you want to laugh and cry at once.

I climb the ladder up to my tree, and watch the Enforcers, the other Watchers, and the innocent people of district 11.


	2. Chapter 2

I watch my people, all copper-skinned and black-haired like me, resting only to wipe the tears away from their sorry, poor eyes. It is amazing that they have tears, really.

The Enforcers let you only take a break three times a day for water, the bathroom and lunch. Then after that, we go back to work. The water my people get is so little; I'm surprised the tears they shed are even there.

I shift a little on the best branch I found, the sturdiest and thickest. Taking I binoculars, I scan the fields.

I see the new eighteen-year-old harvesters being poked hardly all over with a long bat. The Enforcers are seeing if they are fit enough. I suck in a breath as I see one skinny boy being looked over, but exhale when they let him go. The next one isn't so fortunate. He's so skinny, you can see his ribs, and they throw him out without a second glance.

Please be aware that harvesting isn't the only job here.

If you are somewhat strong, healthy, tall, and at least 18, you are a Harvester. If you are small enough to climb tress, healthy, and between the ages of 10-15, like I am, you are a Watcher. If you are a mother of at least four children, you stay at home. And if you don't fit in to anything, like this boy I see now, you are a Helper.

Helpers are the ones that risk everything. Since we are not fans of the Capitol, they continually send ways to try to torture us. Sending poisonous wine. Bringing fake Capitol residents in who have deadly diseases. That sort of thing.

And who do you suppose has to taste that wine? Who do you think is sent to visit the Capitol residents?

I choose to pray for this boy now, as they force him into that horrid purple jacket. The sign on the back says 11, for our district. But is he really a part of it?

They pull him away as he kicks and screams, and I force my eyes away.

They yellow flag comes up. It's been three hours. They are letting us go early today?

Usually this is one of our breaks.

But the flag would have been red. Instead it's yellow, showing we are leaving.

One of the Enforcers comes to the end of my tree.

"The reaping has been moved to today," he says gruffly, as if in his opinion, we should never be leaving for a second. "Go home, kid."

I whistle the four-note tune and climb down, running home to tell my family. They won't be up yet.

"Papa!" I exclaim, running through the door.

"We know. Mama has your dress laid out." He waves me off.

My heart pounds as mama combs my hair and smoothes my dress.

Its brown, with tan flowers on it. Mama ties the pink bow around my waist.

"Oh, Rue, you look beautiful!" she smiles.

I say goodbye to my siblings.

"Here," Benny says, handing me one of his toys. It's a small bronze statue of a teddy bear. "For good luck?"

I kiss his forehead. "I don't need it."

I walk down to the middle of town with Papa, who looks so upset.

"Papa?" I say worriedly. "We'll pray for whoever gets chosen, won't we?"

He nods. "Of course."

Our announcer, Kevana Dadren, smiles brightly as we sign in and come. I stand with the other girls my age, my heart pounding loudly still. You couldn't hear a pin drop.

"Good morning!" she chirps in her Capitol accent. "I do hope our switched time for the Reaping didn't annoy you all. You all work very, very hard."

I look up at the tree in the fields that I'm on everyday. This is all happening so quickly.

"Let us reap the most courageous man and woman!" she smiles. She crosses over to the boy jar. Usually it's the girls first. I guess they've decided to switch things up even more. Above us, I see the large camera focusing on Kevana.

She really is a sight, with her purple hair and her eyelashes that curl up to almost touch her eyebrows. Why do the people in the Capitol dress and speak so strange?

I wish this whole thing wasn't filmed.

A girl beside me begins to shiver with fear. I reach over and take her hand.

"It's all right," I whisper.

"Thresh Longborn!" Kevana says, and begins to clap. No one joins in.

A burly, strong boy makes his way up onto the stage. How did I never see him in the fields? He is built like a tank.

Kevana crosses over the girls' jar, roots around, and plucks a name.

It's odd, the reaction, that people would care. Here, we are treated so cruelly it's rare we ever think for others.

Papa's jaw drops, the girl besides me slides her hand out of mine, and Kevana looks around.

It suddenly dawns on me.

My name has been drawn.


	3. Chapter 3

I look around, speechless. My name 23 times in thousands. My chances, compared to so many others, with their names in hundreds of times, were still diminutive.

I look at the girl beside me; her face flushed a light brown.

I make my way through the crowds slowly, waiting for someone to rect. No one does, but I do see the man I saw earlier looking at me sadly. I turn away.

I find myself at the concrete stairs, and come on to the stage beside Kevana and Thresh.

For a moment, I see something I can't describe in his eyes. Is it fear? Worry? Sympathy? It leaves just as soon as it comes, and I'm left with no thoughts.

I force myself not to look at papa. I can't see him, can't bear it, and refuse to look into his handsome, worn-down face.

It dawns on me that mama doesn't know. She's at home, waiting for me to come back.

I force back tears.

"Well, then!" Kevana beams. "The newest tributes! Shake hands, you two."

She steps back, and I turn to Thresh. That look comes back again, and he extends his hand. He's a muscular giant, really, and my hand is almost crushed inside his grip.

Kevana brings us into our Justice Building, and District 11 seems gone.

Kevana shows us to our rooms and tells us our families will be in to say goodbye.

When I'm alone, I immediately take a pillow and bury my face into it.

"Papa, Mama, Samuel, Hannah, Easter," I recite. "Benny and Leon and the man I don't know." All people who have cared for me. "And God." I add.

I am going to die. I'm going to die soon.

My family comes in, all of them, and I suppose the man I met had told my mother. How else could she have come so quickly?

"Rue, listen to me," mama puts her hands on my cheeks. "I love you. I'm there for you. I'll try to send you things to keep you alive. I love you very very much." And she cries, burying her face into my dress sleeve. "I—l-love you. I'll be with you until the end."

I start to cry too.

Papa leans in and just nods rapidly. "Me too—I can't tell you how much—"

"Sssh," I hush him kindly. "Don't cry, papa, I know."

I leave their arms and go over to my younger siblings.

"Don't die, Rue!" Hannah begs me, her brown eyes filled with worry.

Esther holds on my leg.

I bend down to come eye-to-eye with them. Leo and Benny wipe their eyes.

"Listen to me," I say. "I love you all. I don't have much time to say it."

I look into four pairs of brown eyes, all so sad.

"I hope you can all learn to love each other more each day. I love you all so much, and I will try my hardest to win. I need you to—"

"Times up!" an Enforcer says, leaning my crying family away.

"I love you!" I scream, trying to go after them. Two Enforcers hold me back.

I calm down and they leave, locking the door.

I start to cry into my pillow. I didn't even get to give them one last hug.

Now I'll never see them face to face again, ever.

The door opens and an unexpected visitor greets me.

It's Thresh.

"Hey," he says. His voice is low and firm, like a stern father's. "I'm Thresh. Are you alright?"

"I think so," I wipe my eyes. "I'm sure I'll be alright."

"Hey, it's fine," Thresh smiles. "The games just mean we're one step closer to ending it."

"Ending what?" I ask. I decide I like Thresh. He's actually pretty nice.

"The games," Thresh says, slightly impatiently. "The Games will end someday. I'm sure of it. And when they do, I'm going to be there."

"So you're determined to win?" I guess.

"I'm determined to make a difference." He nods.

I smile.

"We're leaving soon, shortstop," Thresh stands. "Then we can meet our mentor."

"Oh," I say. "I've never actually met him. Have you?"

He shakes his head. "No one does unless the go to the games. And no one from District 11 comes back alive."

I suck in a breath. Was that true?

He pats my shoulder. "See you soon."

He leaves, just like that, and I find myself shaking with fear.

I really am going to die. Aren't I?

Kevana comes in moments later, telling me it's time to go.

I follow her out, holding back any tears I have left.

_No._ I couldn't say goodbye to district 11. Not now. It's home, it's my home, it's my home!

I want to scream it to the world, tell them now.

We arrive to the train and I chose a seat by the window. Mama would have told me to not look back, but I do. I see my family in the crowds.

Blowing them a kiss, they smile back at me and I turn away.

_I can't look at them…but I want to…I can't remember…but I need to…_

I turn back once more as the train speeds away like lightning, and I watch as District 11 is made to be the size of an ant.

Goodbye mama! Goodbye papa! I begin to cry.

Goodbye Hannah, Esther, Leon, and Benny!

Goodbye home.


	4. Chapter 4

Kevana wakes me from a troubled sleep, holding out a purple, frilly dress.

Thresh sits across from me and, seeing the dress nearly chokes on his brandy.

"What's _this_ for?" I ask Kevana, who gives me an impatient look.

"Why, for the Capitol, of course!" she says. "I don't want my tributes being seen in those horrid District 11 clothes." She says "District 11" like one would say _dirty undergarments. _My hands ball into tight fists on my lap. She's so snobby, really.

"When will we meet our mentor, Kevana?" Thresh asks.

"All in good time, I'll give you that," she shrugs. "I'll be back in an hour, and I want to see you two with your hair brushed, teeth clean, and outfits on." She leaves, and the door closes with a snap.

I know "all in good time" translates to "I don't know," but if it involves being wrong, not on time, and/or not knowing something, Kevana hates it.

I sigh and lean back into my seat. "I've decided I don't like Kevana," I announce to Thresh. He smirks.

"Welcome to the club."

"I'm sorry it's so small," I smirk back.

Thresh laughs. It's loud and it reminds me of jingle bells. We used to ring them every Christmas eve in…

No. I can't remember home, can't look back…

"We'd better get dressed," Thresh says, fingering my dress. "The Queen won't be very happy."

"She said an hour," I remind him. "I've never seen that before."

I point to a black box with a glass screen. I think it's called a TV.

Only the rich have one. And if this is the only time I'll get to see one…

Thresh reads my mind. "Turn it on."

The first second I push the red button on something called a remote, the TV turns on and I gasp.

It's District 12's Reaping. Their Capitol escort, Effie Trinket, is gushing to the crowd what an honor it is to have their very first volunteer. She's as loony as Kevana.

My eyes scan over to the left, where I see a small blonde girl, kicking and screaming as a black-haired boy carries her away from a girl with a brown braid.

"KATNISS!" she screams over and over again. "Katniss, Katniss, _Katniss_! Don't go!"

But the brown haired girl called Katniss moves away from her, taking one worried glance back and climbs up the stairs to the stage.

"What's your name, dear?" Effie asks her.

"Katniss Everdeen," the girl replies, looking as if she wants to cry. I don't blame her. I would too.

"I bet my hat that was your sister, wasn't it?"

"Yes."

A boy named Peeta Mellark is chosen too, and they go into their justice building, just like that.

That's it? No one helps? No one cries? They just stand there like gaping idiots.

I choose to turn the TV off. I can't bear to watch anymore.

At least when I was chosen, there was a silent uproar, everyone looked either sad or mad.

But Katniss's reaping is just silent.

I look at Thresh.

"Will she be all right?" I ask him, my brows furrowed.

He shrugs. "You'll probably get to meet her, you know."

"Yeah, when she's slitting my throat."

I get up and grab my dress.

"Come on, we've wasted twenty minutes."

I think about the Hunger Games all throughout getting ready, I barely know what I'm doing.

I dress and meet Kevana and Thresh in the hall as our train comes to a stop. Kevana hands me white gloves and a parasol.

"For the look," she winks.

Thresh crosses his eyes behind her to amuse me and I stifle a laugh.

The doors slide open, and so does my mouth.

The Capitol is beautiful and exotic. Giant buildings capped with slanted roofs are all around. All of the people look so different. I see one woman with a yellow curl of hair and bright pink eyelashes. I see men pushing carts of candy of all shapes and sizes, and a giant TV in the center featuring Caesar

"This is where you live?" I exclaim.

Kevana smiles at my obvious enjoyment.

"Isn't it gorgeous?" She beams. "I assure you only the finest of the Capitol will be presented to you."

And I was worried about the _mentor_?

We go up purple concrete steps to the main building, which will serve as our home for the next few days. We board an elevator.

"The elevator goes according to District and floor," Kevana explains. "So, if you ever go explore the city, and want to come back, just press 11." She clicks 11, and we zoom up.

"We can go _explore_?" I beam.

"My, my! Don't they have _anything_ impressive at District 11?"

Thresh leans close to my ear when Kevana turns away.

"_She'd _be surprised. We should show her the houses."

"_OH, HOW do you two LIVE?" _ I mimic her Capitol accent in a worried voice.

We come to our floor and this time Thresh and I are both amazed.

It's an enormous apartment, really. We have giant room with a fluffy purple carpet, and a large TV showing all of the tributes. I note a couple; a blonde girl from District 1, a brutal-looking boy from 2 who reminds me of Thresh, but he doesn't look very nice at all, and Katniss.

"Well, then!" Kevana beams. "Here is your team, tributes!" we turn around and see a row of people.

"This is Frinda, Rue," Kevana nods to a lady with pink curly hair. "She is your stylist.

"Then we have Sarsen, Xenia, and Miranda," she points to a group of people, all with blue hair and yellow outfits. "They are your prep team.

"And did I mention you get _two_ Avoxes, to serve you?" Kevana giggles. "Well there you have it!"

I feel a sickening feeling in my stomach. To _serve_ me? No! That's basically saying I have slaves.

Thresh is introduced to his team, and we both go to our rooms.

Good.

I have quite a lot to think about.


	5. Chapter 5

My dreams are haunted by visions of Samuel, blood drenching the back of his fleece as the Enforcers whip him again and again, him begging them to stop.

Then it's my Axox "servants" (definitely for lack of a better word) with their tongues being removed.

And the last straw is all of my siblings being chosen after me for the hunger games.

I bolt upright, reaching up and feeling cold sweat dripping onto my hand.

I swing my legs off the bed, wrap a robe around my shaking body, and start down the hall.

My eyesight is still blurred with visions of my dream, and I shake my head to clear it. Faintly, I can see the clock on the wall glow 3:24 AM.

Today will be the tribute circle, and at that time I will read the clock again, anticipating our turn to go down. What will Thresh's attitude be?

I knock on a door I think is Kevana's, but it swings open and I see stairs that lead up to somewhere. I feel a cool breeze wrap around me that reminds me so much of home, and I don't think the cold wind has anything to do with my tears that now fall. I shut the door quietly behind me and climb up the narrow black stairs.

Once at the top, I realize that I'm on a roof. I lean over the railing and see the Capitol, shining bright and hosting parties and odd people.

I wrap my robe tighter around me and shiver as Samuel comes back to mind.

"What are you doing up here?"

I turn and see Miranda, one of my prep team members. Her curly blue hair flies behind her as the wind comes around again.

Now that I see her closer up, I see she is actually very pretty. Her eyes are brown and round and they remind you of a doe's, her nose is balled at the end and her nails are pink at the tips. It gives you the impression of a little girl trying to look older.

"Oooh," she shudders, hugging her arms to her chest. "It's cold."

"You'll get used to it after a while," I say, looking back towards the city.

"Why are you up here?" she repeats, coming over to sit with me.

"I couldn't sleep," I reply sheepishly. How young I must seem to everyone.

"Did Kevana say you could be up here?"

Ugh. I hate those kinds of people, those kinds where they are always on your nerves and getting on your case about the rules.

"No, she didn't," I reply. "I just find it relaxing to be up here."

"The door is supposed to be locked," she informs me, searching me with her eyes. "Did you unlock it?"

"No. It was unlocked when I got up here."

She nods. "Well, then that means someone very strong turned the knob. The door unlocks then you turn it, but it's stuck in place so we always use a key."

Someone very strong…hm….

"Come on, Rue," she says, holding out her hand. "It's too cold up here, you'll catch a cold."

I take her small hand and she leads me back to my room, bidding me goodnight before she leaves.

I decide I like Miranda as I fall into an easy sleep.

The morning greets me by flooding my eyes with the sun's butter gold rays, and the smell of breakfast meeting my nose. I'm out of bed in the next second.

My jaw drops then I see the dining room.

At home, breakfast is a rarity, usually only coming on holidays. We only get one meal a day. It makes me mad that our low food supply is the reason for so many skin-and-boned people, hence so many Helpers.

But this breakfast is enormous, enough to feed all in District 11.

There is a tray of buttered pancakes as taller than you could imagine, fruit of all shapes, kinds, and flavors; hot chocolate, I think, I've never seen any but I've heard of it, and juice. There are waffles and creamy soups and jugs of milk; sausages and ham and bacon; a roasted pig in the center (for breakfast?); all kinds of cereal, breakfast sandwiches, and toast, apple butter and jam for toppings; French toast…and buttery rolls…

My mouth waters.

"Good morning, Rue," Kevana and my prep team arrive.

Miranda passes by and winks at me.

"I've never seen so much food!" I gasp.

"Well, of course not!" Kevana laughs. "It's the Capitol, darling!"

That's right. Right now, my family isn't staying in a beautiful enormous hotel. They aren't eating like queens. And they certainly don't have the comfy nightgown I'm wearing.

But then again, I am going to the hunger games…

"Ah, thresh, welcome," Kevana smiles as he enters the room. His jaw drops when he sees the food, and I giggle.

"It had me shocked, too," I say.

"Now, today is the tribute circle, where you'll see President Snow. Then you'll meet your mentor, go to the first training session, and come back here for a feast," Kevana smiles. "How does that sound?'

I'll admit that I grow to be very excited.

Thresh and I gorge ourselves for the next hour, until our stomachs hurt.

Then we watch Capitol TV shows, which we make fun of the whole time.

It feels good, too laugh.

And for once, I forget of home.


	6. Chapter 6

The schedule gets moved around, and our training session comes first. But right now, my prep team helps me by making sure I sparkle. It's not really fair, the fuss over the girl tributes than the boys. And in the state I'm now in, I'm calling it sexist.

Xena places a wax-coated strip onto my leg, waits, and pulls it off with a hard tug.

"Ow!" I yelp in spite of myself.

"Sorry!" Xena smiles sympathetically. She doesn't have the normal Capitol accent, it's foreign and something I can't name. Her "sorry" sounds like "Sarry."

Xena finishes with three more pulls of my leg hair, and lifts me off the platform.

"Alright, then. Now for hair."

She and my other stylist, Sarsen, a man with orange sticky lipstick and red wavy hair, brush out my matted curls and scrub it clean.

African-American hair tends to be dry, so we use lots of conditioner. But in our little Hob, it's terribly expensive (as is most other things) and I haven't washed it thoroughly in weeks. I can hear the impatient clucking of their tongues as the dump more flower-scented conditioner onto my head.

Miranda styles it after it's washed, putting it into two poofs towards the back of my hair so that it stays out of my way.

I walk into Frinda's room and she checks me over.

"Very nice," she says. "Go to training, and when you come back your mentor will be here."

I nod and leave.

On the elevator, I see that Thresh is wearing the exact same outfit I am, a t-shirt with "11" printed on the back and black pants.

We arrive in the training room. Only the tributes from District 2 are here.

It's that scary-looking older boy I saw on the TV earlier. He's blonde, and handsome, but there is something lethal, not right, in his eyes. The girl beside him is equally so, with an oval head and piercing brown eyes and black hair pulled back.

Thresh doesn't seem afraid. He nods at them in greeting. They nod back.

Slowly, the rest of the districts flood into the room with scattered chatter, ending with District 12.

I feel my heart pounding for whatever reason when I see Katniss and Peeta arrive.

The woman named Atala gives us the rules.

"No fighting with the other tributes," she says, "you'll have plenty of time for that in the arena. In two weeks, 23 of you will be dead. But be warned: the arena can be hazardous. Some of you will die from starvation, thirst, and other natural causes. Exposure can kill as easily as a knife."

She blows he whistle. The training has begun.

I go over to camouflage. Using the mixed plants and mud, I make my hand look like a swamp. I scrub it off and start over.

I find out later I can't really camouflage.

I try weights. I try to pick one up, but it doesn't budge. I believe it's cemented into the ground, but once I leave, Cato comes behind me, picks it up as easily as it were a baseball, and throws it.

I gulp.

Cato puts his knife down on a table and leaves.

I grin. At home, I loved to fool with people.

I think it's time to annoy Cato.

I take it quickly, sure no one's watching, and climb up the ropes.

"You took my knife!" Cato accuses the boy from district 1.

"No!" the other boy rejects him.

"Yes you did!" Cato says angrily. "Where is it?"

"I didn't take it, you—!"

I plug my ears from the language. What have I done?

They continue to fight right there, on and on, until the peacekeepers have to separate them.

I laugh in spite of myself. This is actually funny. I twirl the knife in my hands.

I look down and see Katniss and Thresh looking up at me, laughing.

I get down later, and watch Katniss from hiding places.

Peeta sees me after a while, whispers something in her ear, and she turns to see me. I hide behind the wall and walk away, embarrassed.

The bell rings, signaling training time is up. My heart pounds as Thresh and I board the elevator.

"Hey, good trick with the knife back there." He grins.

I press a finger to my lips. "No telling."

He nods.

As the go into our apartment, we see a man wearing a purple tux by Kevana. He's handsome, with black swept hair and chocolate brown eyes.

"Tributes, this is your mentor, Cerna Vinci."

Vinci looks at Thresh, smiling and shaking his hand.

Then he looks at me.

"This is the girl tribute?" he asks with a much different approach. He seems disgusted.

"Yes, this is Rue," Kevana says. "She's twelve."

Vinci gives me one look, up and down, and leaves.


	7. Chapter 7

_My mentor hates me,_ I decide as he leaves.

"Well, he's just tired," Kevana answers my unspoken question. "He'll come to. Anyway, the tribute circle is tonight, and the interviews are tomorrow night, so I hope your ready."

"And the feast is tonight?" I ask, my stomach gurgling at the very thought.

The corners of Kevana's thin mouth twitch. "Yes," she nearly laughs. "Yes, Rue." I hear her high heels clop as she leaves the room.

"Vinci!" I hear her hiss on the other side of the door. Thresh and I get the same idea, tiptoeing over to press our eager ears to the door to hear what she has to say.

We hear glass clinking and I fizzy noise, so I guess Vinci opened a drink.

"Kevana," he replies coolly, "she's too young."

"_So?_ She's a tribute, fair and square."

"No, Kevana. No. She's not a tribute, and it's certainly _not _fair," he retorts.

A pause develops, and Thresh and I press our ears closer to the door, scared of missing anything.

"Her name was chosen." Kevana says finally.

"Don't you see? The Capitol is using a child not even a teenager to compete for her life, because of a stupid piece of paper bearing her name!"

"So you'd rather I _lied_, Cerna?" Kevana hisses, "You'd rather I lie to everyone, all of Panem, and told them another name? I'm doing her a favor!"

"A favor?" Vinci roars. "Of what? She's going to die, you know that."

"Then help her," Kevana whispers. "Help her pull through."

"Oh, believe me, I will. I'll help her so much it will put you and your stupid Capitol friends to shame!"

"But you left—"

"Because I was mad!" he interrupts. "I don't care what you say, Kevana, that girl will die."

Another pause, longer this time, and so painful to me that I feel tears filling my eyes.

"I know."

I turn and run from my post, and I wipe tears from my eyes with my arm and don't see the step below me. I trip onto the hard cold floor, slamming on my chin. A flash of white comes, and then I feel hot, wet blood leaking out of the gash.

Tears sting my eyes and boil over, making a watery, bloody mess on the ground.

I can make out a pair of pale, yellow-tipped fingernails come around my shoulders and help me up.

"_Let go of me_!" I shriek. Kevana lets go and looks down at me, shocked.

"Rue, honey…your face…"

"I don't care!" I scream. "You hate me! You hate me!" I turn to run and she grabs my arms again. "Rue, please…"

"LET ME GO!" I scream. I'm out of control, and I know it. But right now, my world is collapsing around me. This isn't right, it never was right, never would be. No, no, no! This is the way I should have acted, right when I was chosen for the games. I can't go on, not like this, not ever. I can't go in to the hunger games.

Kevana looks absolutely horrified at my behavior. It makes me thrash harder and get even angrier, knowing that's all she cares about, always. Always manners and fashion and nobody's feelings. Well, then. I'll _make her care!_

"Rue Harmin!" Vinci's voice cuts through the tensed air, and I jerk out of Kevana's grasp.

He moves towards me, and I see him do something that makes my heart twinge.

He is crippled, and he slowly makes his way over to a wheelchair in the corner of the room, sighing as he shifts his weight. He wheels over to me and takes my hands.

"You're so young. I understand how this must be hard for you—"

My anger returns.

"Hard doesn't begin it!" I scream. Trying to free my grasp, but he has and iron grip.

"Listen kid," he says firmly. "I don't play around with kids. I have no family of my own. My wife died."

My heart pounds again with guilt. I'm figuring out all sorts of things today.

"So know I'm asking you to listen," he says. "Please."

I come to a standstill and look down. It's very uncomfortable now.

"Rue, I 'm sorry this has happened to you. So I'm asking you to be a dear and pull through. At least one twelve year old goes through this every year. You are not alone."

I nod silently.

Thankfully, my prep team rushing in saves me.

It's time for the tribute circle. I go to them, and Miranda must sense something's wrong. She pulls a tissue from her pocket, wraps an arm around me, and leads me away.

In less than fifteen minutes, I'll be on TV, where my family will see me,

I just hope they don't feel as miserable as I do.

My prep team scrubs me down, and fits me into a puff-sleeved blue shirt with overalls over it and some sort of tinsel in my hair, which is washed and parted again.

I'm led down to the rock-paved streets, where I hear roaring as the crowd sees the first tributes.

I shake, feeling more afraid than I've ever felt in my life.

Thresh unexpectedly reaches out and takes my hand and gives it a squeeze. My head goes back to the reaping, looking into his brown, sad eyes. That look comes back again, reminding me of so many things.

I smile up at him as the flashback fades.

He lets go of my hand as our door slides up. The prep teams pat the horses, and they trot off down the streets.

Roaring fills my ear and I look around with amazement.

"I PRESENT TO YOU, DISTRICT 11!" An announcer calls.

The Capitol, possibly all the Capitol, all in the thousands, smiles at me and cheer my name.

I wave.

We circle around and we end up beside District 12, and my heart pounds all over again.

"Welcome Tributes!" President Snow says as he appears over the balcony. He has a white beard and piercing, somewhat evil blue eyes. "We welcome you! I wish you the best in the Arena. May the odds be ever in your favor!"

The crowd roars, and he claps along.

I have no idea why the next feeling washes over me. It's odd; I've never felt this way. But there it is, right in my heart, and my mind spins. But I know what I feel towards him, the Capitol itself, this man.

Hatred.


	8. Chapter 8

We are excused then, and when the door closes behind Thresh and I, I realize it must be altered so that we can't hear a thing. The cheering and screaming and whistles all disappear in a second, and my ears are left ringing.

Miranda, Xena, and Sarsen are chatting with a man I don't recognize. They spin around at my arrival and shower Thresh and I with hugs and kisses.

"You did so well, both of you!" Xena squeals, clasping her hands together. Sarsen nods and ruffles my hair, which I don't like.

"Good job," he chuckles.

"Oh!" Miranda gasps, and goes over to stand next to the stranger.

"This is Cinna, Rue. He does the makeup for Katniss Everdeen, the girl from District—"

"Tweleve," I finish. "I know."

Cinna bends down to meet my eyes. His are soft, cheerful and brown.

"So you're Rue!" he smiles. "I've heard so much about you. You're very brave for being here."

"She didn't really have a choice, though," Thresh says.

Cinna nods. "The Hunger Games…you're only tweleve. I can imagine we are all quite shaken."

He stands up to full height and leaves.

Frinda comes down beside me. Her hair has been changed to green curls, and her yellow eyelashes reach up to touch her eyebrows, which are purple.

"Goodnight, Rue," she smiles. "I'll see you tomorrow."

She pats my back, and follows my prep team and Thresh into the elevator. I stand there for a moment, content with being alone in the quiet, beautifully decorated hallway.

I finally go into an elevator, and come face to face with someone else.

He's the boy from district 4, I think.

He's handsome, with curly brown hair and freckles, blue eyes, and a cheerful grin.

"So you're Rue, right?" he asks, leaning against the elevator wall.

I have no idea how he knows my name. Was our entrance really that big? Besides, District 12 came into the Tribute Circle on _fire. _Who would remember us? Well, at least not me. Thresh is so muscular and tough, he's bound to have a sponsor or two out there already.

My head tilts to the side in wonder.

"Yes," I reply.

He nods, a silent confirmation.

"Right. I'm Henry."

"Hello." This conversation is awkward and annoying, so I turn my back to him and survey the buttons around for eleven.

He cuts in beside me and presses four. We start to go down and I feel myself flush with a little anger.

"District 11 was one floor up!" I baely keep the anger out of my voice.

"Sorry," he stifles a yawn. "I'm tired."

Ok, so this isn't the nicest boy around. But he doesn't look more than a year older than me, so I try to wear him down.

"When's your birthday?" I ask him.

"Why do you ask?" he brings a yoyo out of his pocket and starts to play with it.

"Just curious," I say. "We have six floors to go down to."

"How about this," he says. "We'll play a game. For each floor we stop at we'll answer each other's questions."

I nod as we reach the ninth floor.

Nobody comes, and the door slide shut again and Henry turns to me.

"Floor nine. My birthday is May twenty fourth."

"What year?" I ask.

"3000," he says. "your birthday?"

"Febuary thirteenth. Right before valentine's day."

"Must be bad luck if your birthday falls on Friday," he laughs. I smile. "What year?"

"2999," I say. "I'm a year younger than you."

"It's still wrong though, isn't it?' he whispers. "To have us play in the games?"

I look around, certain there are cameras.

So I shrug, and I see a look of disgust in his eyes.

"Let's continue," I rush on as the eighth floor doors open.

As the game continues, we soon grow to like each other's company.

/

When I'm about to go to bed that night, I root around and find a notebook and a quill.

I write down the 6 things I learned about Henry:

1. His birthday is May twenty fourth

2. He hates the Hunger Games

3. He has a little sister

4. His mother died

5. He's good with a knife

6. He promised to be my ally

turning out the light, I think back to when Henry said it.

It was the last floor, and gave me something to think about all the way up.

"Last floor," I said. "What be your strategy in the Hunger Games?"

he looked me up and down. "We'll be allies."

My my mouth closed, but fell open in my mind. And he stepped out and waved to me as the doors slid shut.

Well, I think. What if I don't _want _ to be his ally? What if I'm fine, being right with myself?

I turn over and fall into troubled dreams of the hunger games, and how I'll survive.

I just hope I'll make it through the first day.


	9. Chapter 9

Breakfast the next day is amazing, as expected. Kevana rattles off the tight schedule.

At nine, we'll have training with Vinci and herself, and have our private session to get our scores, then the night interview with Ceaser Flickerman. Oh, Lord. All that in one day? Plus I will see Henry again, which makes my throat tighten.

"Are you okay?" Thresh asks, studying me as he takes a piece of toast and smears jam on it. The simple sight of his dull knife makes my insides churn. Lately, I've been feeling far too vulnerable. What if I did die in the games?

I've been seeing Thresh like another older brother, which I find I have a love-hate relationship with. He's a great older "brother," but at the same time it reminds me of my actual one. The whip flashes in my mind.

"Yes, I'm fine," I lie. I quickly try to come up with something to talk about.

"So, what are your thoughts on Katniss?" I mean to say Cinna, but somehow her name slips my mouth.

"The girl tribute from ten?" Thresh asks.

"Yes," I say. "I mean, no. She's from District Twelve. You know, the one who took her sister's place?"

"Well, then she's brave," Thresh says, taking an apple from the center of the table. He shrugs like it's no big deal. "Rue, it's the Hunger Games. You can't really let anyone amaze you."

"Meaning what?" I ask, snapping a little.

"Meaning that if you do, that person may not care," Thresh explains. "Think about it: Rue, the youngest tribute from District 11, looking up to Katniss so much that she's just love to be her ally. When in truth, she will die, when in truth, Katniss may not care and kill her, and in truth, and _this especially_, you shouldn't have an ally because there is only one winner."

My mouth splits open. I've never seen Thresh look so annoyed. But then it dawns on me.

"You wanted an ally," I say. "You wanted an ally in the games."

He turns to his breakfast and it looks painful for him to swallow.

"No," he says quietly.

"Yes," I correct. "You did. You wanted an ally. Tell me who it was."

He shakes his head and looks up gratefully as Vinci comes into the room.

"Good Morning," he says, though he seems a little angry. "How are you two today?"

"Fine," we say together,

"What's wrong?' he sighs, lighting his pipe. I smile. Vinci knows whenever we are sad or upset, always. Its like he has X-Ray vision or something, right into our hearts.

"It's just…" I start, searching for an answer. "We're nervous about the games." Which is true, we are. I mean, I am, at least.

Vinci nods and sips his drink. "Well, we all are, aren't we?" he says gruffly. "Don't worry, you two will be fine."

"Not both of us," I say quietly. It's meant to be for myself, but Vinci hears it.

"Right," he growls. "And what determines your death?"

I shut my mouth and don't answer.

"Interviews are at nine tonight, and your training for it starts at two.

"Training for an interview?" Thresh questions.

"Training for sponsors," Vinci corrects and gets up to leave. "See you then." He walks from the room with a smug little grin.

"Training for sponsors?" I ask, biting into a roll.

"Sponsors are basically your god when you're in the hunger games," Thresh smiles. "They can send you gifts and stuff, things to keep you alive."

"Oh. So how do we get them?"

"You get them to like you," he stands. "Which is where the training scores and interviews come in."

"I actually don't do well in front of people." I say worriedly.

"Don't worry. That's why we're going to train. They'll prepare you for that," Thresh pats my arm and leaves.

Huh. I planned on receiving something a little more helpful. Not that Thresh isn't wise; it's just that he's not…

I don't know. But recently he hasn't been acting all that helpful.

/

Thresh and I wait our private session an hour later. Henry passes me and gives a wink. I feel my whole body go warm.

The girl precedes the boy from each district, so I go in before Thresh.

I walk into the room and see that the Gamemakers are all stationed in an area built into the wall with lunch. It makes my mouth water…

_Oh, get a grip, Rue. Points. Think of the points._

I announce myself. "Rue Harmin, District 11, age 12."

The tension in the room grows.

The room goes quiet and I start to shake. I grab a slingshot from the metal case and wait as the dummy rises from the ground. I pull the leather cup back and let go. The rock hits the dummy in the head and nicks its arm. I bow a little and a few people clap and chuckle.

"She's adorable," I hear one woman with orange hair whisper. She claps the loudest.

I almost run from the room.

Being a tribute can definitely be hard.

I step into the elevator and almost fall over.

That was so hard, so scary. I guess it's because I'm the youngest.

I walk into the apartment and Kevana runs over to me.

"Come on, please, dear. It's time to see the scores."

She sets me down on the couch and Vinci and our prep teams join us.

"How do you think you did?" Kevana asks.

"Fine, I guess," I reply sheepishly.

"Oh Thresh thank goodness!" Kevana pulls Thresh into the room and we see the scores.

Henry scores an eight. I feel proud of him.

Thankfully, I score a 7. I feel proud as the room applauses.

Thresh pulls off a 10, and Katniss scores…

An 11.

Whoa. Maybe the ally thing won't work after all. I turn to Thresh, and he gives me a look I can't decipher. Maybe it means, _just stay away from her_.

I'm whisked into a blue dress and flower clips for my interview.

Kevana approaches me and pats my arm. "Are you alright?"

"I think so. Everything is going by so quickly."

"It always does, dear." Kevana grins.

Thresh and I are fitted and sent downstairs in the elevator.

"How do you think you did?"

"Fine." I say. "You?"

"Pretty well, to say so myself."

I grin at him but then my face falls. "Thresh?" I say. "Why can't I be an ally with Katniss?"

His brown eyes go wide. "Didn't you see her score? Rue, it's dangerous."

I purse my lips and don't answer.

We wait as all the other tributes go, and finally it's my turn.

I step onto the stage and shake Ceaser's hand.

"Hello, Rue!" he beams.

"Hello," I reply politely. "How are you?"

"Charming, isn't she?" Ceaser calls out to the crowd. I blush and smile.

"Thank you," I say after the crowd dies down from applause.

"So, Rue." Ceaser turns to me. "What's it feel like to be the youngest tribute?"

"Well, it's a little strange…"

The crowd laughs.

"Indeed it would be," Ceaser grins. "Do you miss your family?"

"Oh, definitely," I cry a little. "I love them more than anything."

He pats my hand.

"And I know they'd be proud of how brave you are."

I smile but feel like if I talk, I'll cry. Ceaser senses this and calls out, "Rue Harmin, everyone!"

I exit and fall into Kevana's arms.

"I got scared."

"I know," she soothes. "I know."

I lose all control and cry.


	10. Chapter 10

I climb in bed at nine at night, and I'm still awake after two in the morning.

That interview was definitely not one of my best moments. Will I have any sponsors?

I remember mama's words. "_I love you. I'm there for you. I'll try to send you things to keep you alive. I love you very much."_

And I feel tears come up in my eyes as I remember what else my poor family said, Hannah begging me not to die. Esther clinging to my leg. Papa looking sad, so sad, and so full of misery as his oldest girl was taken away.

And what of Hannah? What if something happens to her, too? Tomorrow is the games. I might have my throat slit in a second. But at this rate, mama and papa lost two of their children. Hannah is the third. It's her turn to be hurt. Hasn't she already, though? After losing me? But somehow this brings me peace. Maybe momma and papa will be more protective.

I get up and wrap a robe around me. I know exactly where I'm going for peace, even if Miranda was right last time and I'll catch a cold.

I'm almost to the door when I feel a hand on my arm.

I turn, expecting it is Miranda, but it's not. Kevana stands behind me, her lips in a straight line and her now yellow hair in pink plastic curlers.

"Miranda told me of the night where you went up there," she says quietly. Her usually bright, happy eyes now show nothing but concern. "But this time you need your sleep, Rue. I'm sorry."

"Please," I whisper urgently. "That rooftop is my only sense of peace."

She shakes her head. "You need to be used to discomfort before the arena."

She takes my hand and leads me back to my room.

Usually, on nights like this, when I know trouble will arise the next day, I try to remember things that keep me happy. But all of those things are back home.

So I try to remember songs I love. That's when it hits me.

"Kevana?" I ask. "Do you have anything that plays music?"

"I believe there are some music boxes in your closet," she tells me, getting ready to close my bedroom door behind me. "Don't stay up too late, Rue. You'll regret it."

The door closes and once I hear her footsteps padding away, I run to the closet and look around.

I never really opened it, and now I see that it it's enormous (well, what isn't in the Capitol?) and I'll probably get lost in it. The blue walls match my carpet, and they turn into hallways, the shelves containing anything you think about.

The first music box I come to is wooden with carved-in reliefs of ancient goddesses and gods. I turn the knob and listen. It's an eerie, two-note key that reminds me of danger coming, and I put it away.

The next box is plain. I turn the knob and the lid opens to reveal a ballerina that turns to an excerpt from Swan Lake.

I find one more, the one that's already opened. It's a Mocking jay in the middle, and its wings go up and down. It plays a pretty tune that reminds me of home. I carry it out of the closet and play it while I go to sleep.

Though the thought of the games scare me in my dreams, when I wake up, the little box still plays. And I know it's a greater comfort that I've ever had, even more than the roof.

I tiptoe out of my room, and find that everybody is still asleep. I know I probably should be, too, but instead I go up to the roof for a little while.

"Not scared, are you?"

I turn. I've been sitting on the couch for a little while; listening to the birds and watching the first Capitol residents go about their day. I didn't even hear him come up.

"Hi, Thresh," I say. "No, I'm not scared. Just…anxious."

"Meaning…?"

"Well, everybody dies, of course, except for one tribute. And that's probably not going to be me."

He sits down beside me.

"I guess what I'm anxious for," I say. "Is exactly _how_ I'm gong to die. I guess I never expected it to be me."

He laughs. It sounds like bells. "Of course! Nobody does, do they? But you'll be fine."

"You can't promise that."

"No, I can't, your right. But…Rue…" he takes my small hands in his large ones. "I have a pretty good feeling."

We share a smile.

After breakfast, my prep team fits me into a pair of jeans, a t-shirt, an extra jacket, and a matching windbreaker. They do my hair and make sure I'm ready. Of course, I'm not.

Frinda comes and puts her light blue arm around me. "My blessings, Rue." She sounds choked up, ready to cry. "These past few days of knowing you haven't been nearly enough."

I nod and pat her back. "I'll be fine. Really, I will."

She nods back. "You'll be fine."

Lies. Such empty, empty lies.

Xena pats my head and loses it completely. She grabs a tissue, presses it under her eyes and runs from the room.

Sarsen brushes my hair behind my ears. "Be brave, little one," he says. He is so noble. "Be brave, for me."

I hug him. He reminds me of my father.

A finger taps my shoulder after a moment, and I see Miranda, whom I love the most.

I run into her arms.

"Rue…" her lip trembles. "I have a gift for you, from all of us. It's something to t-take into the games." She pulls out a beautiful necklace with a cross in the middle of the gold chain. On the back of it in teeny writing it reads, "_search for the person you wish to be, and you will always find yourself. –Mama."_

I gasp. "My mother sent this?"

"Yes, Rue," Sarsen smiles.

As Miranda fastens it around my neck, I feel a lot braver.

I hug each one of them in turn, and even go find Xena.

Then with a final sad wave, they leave.

Vinci and Kevana and Thresh wait for me at the door.

"Listen, Kid. Just run when you get on the plates. After that, I'll do what I can."

"Thank you, Vinci." I smile at him, though he looks serious.

"Well, Kevana," I address her. And I feel her trembling as she hugs me. She even kisses my forehead.

"Goodbye." She finally says, before she too, losses it and runs off.

Thresh and I shake hands as we go to separate elevators.

"We may not be on the same team," I tell him.

"No," he agrees, before disappearing behind the sliding door.

Vinci and I travel down together.

"Anything else I should know?" I ask him.

"Just be careful." He says.

The door opens and I am escorted to a helicopter, which is ready to take me to the Games.

I wave at Vinci before the door closes.

I take a seat and see Katniss at the far end. She gives me a small smile, and turns away.

I don't look for Henry, and Thresh, who has been with me all this time, I can't bear to look at. I keep my gaze down even as a woman puts a sharp metallic thing into my arm. My tracker.

We get off and I'm into the building. Frinda is there.

"I forgot to tell you I'd be here." She smiles.

She kisses my forehead as I give her one last hug.

The last one. Probably the last one I get.

I climb into the circular elevator, thinking I've ridden too many, and my body trembles. She blows me a kiss, and I blow one back as my elevator rises.

It's time for the games.


	11. Chapter 11

The bright light from the sun nearly blinds me. I hold a flat hand to my brow, and scan what's in front of me.

Woods. Thick, green, unyielding, (and most likely dangerous) woods. I look at the tributes around me, all determined to win. I wonder if the Capitol is cheering them on right now. I close my eyes, take a deep breath, and think of home. My eyes flutter open as I hear the announcer come on, and the last 5 seconds show on the circular TV.

My last 5 seconds to live?

The gong sounds, and I jump off my plate.

The wind flaps my hair back as I run, and I become aware of the 23 other people around me. Someone throws a knife at me, but I duck in time to it only slices the top part of my ear. I feel someone jump for me, from the back, and I dart him and get out of the way. The girl from 2 launches a knife at him, which hits him square in his back. He screams in agony and I watch him fall to the ground with a groan.

Too late, I realize I've been looking back to long. A girl throws a punch at me, in my stomache. I groan and sway on the spot.

_Don't fall. Don't fall_. I kick her in the shin and spit in her face, and run for my life—literally, I'm sorry to say.

I see a small brown backpack below me, and grab it. Swinging it over my shoulder, I run for the woods.

"You!"

I keep running from the sound. I know it's for me, and I force my weary legs to keep running. Here, you cannot die if you want to go home. Here, you can't sit down too long. And here, well…

Kevana was right. I needed to get used to disappointment. She had good intentions, but this was different. I wasn't trying to go to see the roof. I was trying to live.

I kept running, stubbing my toe and tripping over some sticks that had fallen to the ground.

"You! Wait!"

I had to keep going. I wouldn't even look back. I tried to dodge whoever was following me around a tree. But to my horror, I saw the Careers, lust about half a mile away. I ran the other way and down before I felt hands close on my arms. I tried to pull away, but they were too strong. This was it, this was the end! I was going to die.

"Rue, it's me."

I tried to talk through the hand over my mouth. "Henry?"

He moved his hand, and grabbed mine instead. "Hurry! Let's go."

And he led me through the forest.

I had to admit; he was good at finding which routes to take. My foot snapped a stick under me as the gong sounded. Twelve times it sounded, twelve people were dead.

Then I understood three things about what was around me.

This was war.

This was murder.

This was the hunger games.

I prayed a quick prayer in my mind. "Help me, God."

Please.


	12. Chapter 12

I AM SO SORRY! Thank you to those of you who are still reading...

* * *

Henry knows his way around the area of the woods, leading me into a concealed thick forest and hiding us in a ditch behind boulders. We unpack and lay out all of our things. Henry got a knife, and I have a small bag that holds a slingshot, a small loaf of bread, and socks.

I examine the bread. It's similar to what we have in District 11. It's whole grain and sprinkled with nuts and small figs, but not soft, warm, fluffy and sweet like every District had below us.

"Hungry, Rue?" Henry asks.

"A bit," I reply truthfully, but a small wave of guilt covers me as I remember that we're not just camping. We're fighting for our lives. And, as far as that goes, that means no bread when you're not about to die of starvation.

"Have a little," Henry says. "I can hold off."

"As can I," I tell him, "It's okay. We need to safe this. If I have one piece, I'll finish it in one night."

Henry smiles and thinks for a moment. "Have you ever eaten a groosling, Rue?"

"A what?" I ask, perplexed.

"It's a large bird that cannot fly. I saw some around here. They are filled with fatty meat. Come on, get your slingshot. I'll help you kill one."

"Kill an animal?" I say. "All animals are sweet. I would never kill one."

"Well, there's no time like the present," Henry says, a bit impatient.

He leads me outside and helps me find one. They like to stay in the shade of the trees, away from any trouble. We hide behind a bush and I launch my first sharp pebble from the slingshot cup. It flies right into the groosling's throat, and it falls to the ground dead as the others scurry away.

I let Henry gut and clean him as the moon cats over and the night begins.

Dreaming of home, I fall asleep.

* * *

AN: Sorry It's so short. I'll get back into the groove in a bit. Thank you all so much!

Dimpled


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